


Lately It Occurs to Me

by Marks



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: M/M, PWP, Post-breakup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-10
Updated: 2010-01-10
Packaged: 2017-12-13 21:02:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/828856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marks/pseuds/Marks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It seems a little funny -- in the weird way, not the haha way -- for Spencer to make this phone call while they're both in Europe instead of L.A. He hasn't seen Spencer in maybe six months. Or has it been eight? Ten?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lately It Occurs to Me

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for allegedlykyle for popoffacork Winter 2009.

Ryan wonders if this would be happening if they were at home. It seems a little funny -- in the weird way, not the haha way -- for Spencer to make this phone call while they're both in Europe instead of L.A. He hasn't seen Spencer in maybe six months. Or has it been eight? Ten? Ryan's never been good at keeping track of time, but however long it's been, it's been awhile.

"You do realize my house is like fifteen minutes from yours, don't you?" Ryan asks.

"Do you?" Spencer throws back. It's a fair point.

"Okay. Where and when?" He makes Spencer repeat the details, even though he actually wrote them down the first time around, just to make sure Spencer knows what he's asking.

"Stop fucking around," Spencer says when Ryan starts to ask him to repeat them again. He sounds nervous, on edge and angry, like he's mad at himself for even calling in the first place. "I know you wrote them down, Ryan. I know you."

Ryan reads back what Spencer said instead.

+

Paris is nice.

Ryan knows that's an understatement, but he's always genuinely liked France, even though most of his visits here have been just a stop through on tour and this time is no different. It sounds weird inside his head to call Spencer a stop off on tour, two ships passing in the night. Maybe that's not quite right, though. Maybe they're two sailors with girls or guys in every port and this is just another port, but Ryan doesn't know if that makes him the sailor or the guy. Maybe he should stay away from maritime metaphors altogether. He gets seasick pretty easily.

Spencer's already sitting in the cafe when Ryan comes strolling up. He knows he's on time, even checks his phone to be sure, and he also knows that they're meeting just down the road from Spencer's hotel, but it still seems unfair that Spencer had time to compose himself and order coffee already. It makes him feel so unbalanced. _Spencer_ makes him feel unbalanced. Ryan tries not to show it as he walks into the patio area and sits down at Spencer's table. Spencer raises his cup and an eyebrow, and Ryan suppresses the urge to ruffle his hair or put up his hand for a high five, like he might have in the old days. These are strange new days, after all.

"You look good," Spencer says, as Ryan flags the waiter down and orders a coffee and a croissant. Ryan shrugs. He looks like he always does, he thinks, and that's sometimes good as long as he looks past the gawky limbs, knobby knees, and too-long fingers. His dad used to tell him he'd outgrow it, that he'd looked liked that before he went into the military, too, but Ryan's twenty-four now and still waiting.

"You, too," Ryan says, and means it. But that's not a surprise. Spencer's looked good to Ryan at times where he really shouldn't have, and he doesn't mean the times where Spencer had weird facial hair or used to look down at his soft belly and sigh when he thought no one was paying attention. No, Ryan's wanted Spencer when Spencer's parents were extending their hospitality to a pitiful skinny kid whose dad drank too much, when they were supposed to be concentrating on getting the band off the ground, when Spencer was excitedly detailing the time he lost his virginity, when Ryan had a girlfriend (or two, he thinks with a wince), or when the band was breaking up and Spencer was pinning him down in the backseat of Ryan's Mercedes, grinding his hips into Ryan's and telling him that he was going to suck Ryan's cock.

Ryan's timing has always been very, very bad.

"How long are you in town for?" Ryan asks.

"A few days. We got in late last night because of some schedule shifting, so we've got a day off when I didn't expect one. I'm really happy about it, but fuck, I'm tired. Jetlag."

"I'm always tired."

Spencer smiles. "I remember. How about you? When's your show?"

"Tonight," Ryan says. "I shouldn't even be here right now. Jon will kill me if I don't show up for soundcheck on time. He thinks I'm still in my room."

"So why did you come?"

Ryan shrugs because he doesn't want to admit it out loud. "I wanted to see how you were doing," he says eventually, which is pretty close to the truth.

He's grateful when his order arrives and he has something to do with his mouth. The truth, that every one of his nerve endings has been singing since Spencer called him, is too much to admit out loud. Everything used to be so easy between them, but Ryan feels like he doesn't really have a place in Spencer's life anymore. Which is mostly his fault, so.

+

Ryan follows Spencer out as soon as their drinks are done and the bill is paid, grateful that Spencer doesn't seem to want to drag this out any more than he does. He guesses it's a good thing that he told Spencer that he was on a schedule because it means that any eagerness can be written off pretty easily. The hotel is just on the corner, Spencer barely taking the time to flash his keycard at the concierge before they're in the elevator. When the doors close, Ryan looks sidelong at Spencer and Spencer's already looking back.

"Jesus," Ryan grunts just as his back hits the mirrored wall behind him. That's all he manages to say before Spencer's mouth is on his, his hands going tight around Ryan's wrists. Ryan opens his mouth to let Spencer lick his way inside as he recounts the times this has happened before. There was the band's break-up, of course, the amicable lunch followed by mindblowing sex, but that was just the first time. Three months later, Spencer was on the phone ranting at him about something Ryan had said online, something so unconnected to Spencer that Ryan couldn't even remember what it was. They both happened to be in Vegas at the time and things snowballed from there. Then another five, when Spencer and Brendon were touring and Ryan was visiting Jon in Chicago; Jon arranged a meet-up and Spencer and Ryan had ended up squeezed into a men's room stall with Ryan on his knees. There's only been one other time since -- New York when Spencer was visiting Pete and Ryan was in town for some contract thing. They'd run into each other by accident and fought about nothing, but wound up jerking each other off in the hallway outside Pete's apartment, finishing with Pete ducking his head out and calling "Ryan?" without Ryan looking back. They're getting farther away from home every time and spacing out their time together, but their conversations don't have that old bitter edge anymore.

The elevator arrives at Spencer's floor just as Ryan's trying to decide whether or not that's a good thing at the same time Spencer bites down on Ryan's neck, making him gasp.

"Come on," Spencer says in a low voice. He already sounds a little fucked out.

"Where's Brendon?" Ryan asks, not wanting any questions.

Spencer shrugs. "Not sharing with me. Hurry up," he urges, grabbing Ryan's arm and pulling him down the hall. They get inside Spencer's room with minimal issue, which Ryan's grateful for. Usually if he's in charge of the keycard, he drops it twice and inserts it upside-down; Jon likes to tease him and tell him that's not a good sign for his sex life, but honestly he doesn't think there's a huge correlation. At least Spencer's not complaining, judging by how he slams and locks the door behind them, kissing Ryan hard again.

Ryan's hands automatically go to the edge of Spencer's shirt, lifting it up so he can push his hands underneath the hem and run them up Spencer's back. It feels pretty nice underneath Ryan's hands, and Spencer has to break away to pant against Ryan's throat when Ryan digs in his fingers and runs them down Spencer's spine.

"God, your hands," Spencer says, and Ryan gets a feeling of déjà vu. Spencer had said the same thing to him in Pete's hallway; he wonders if Spencer has given that any thought after it was done, the way they'd screamed at each other, mutual temper tantrums that they hadn't had since they were seven and six, and ended up in each other's space, pushed up against a wall with their hands down each other's pants. Ryan's lip had bled where Spencer had bit him, and he'd walked away with his zipper still undone. He's so caught up in the memory, Spencer's leg in between his spurring it on, that he almost misses it when Spencer says, "Can you fuck me?"

"What?" Ryan asks, even though he knows he heard right. It's not like he's an asshole, either, giving more weight to what Spencer's asking than what they've done before. He already knows what it's like to have Spencer come all over his hand, and have his cock down Spencer's throat. They've had sex before, multiple times, though maybe not as often as Ryan wants. It's just that he didn't think that was something Spencer would ask for. Ryan thinks about it sometimes, about what it would feel like to get fucked, so he doesn't know why he didn't see Spencer there before. Actually, that was pretty stupid of him, now that he thinks about it.

"If you don't want to," Spencer starts, frowning.

Ryan squeezes Spencer's waist. "No, I do," he says quickly. "You just caught me off-guard. I don't have any condoms on me."

Spencer pulls Ryan further into the room and points. There's a Bible sitting out on the nightstand, a bottle of lube and a string of condoms piled on top of them.

"Romantic," Ryan says, and Spencer laughs. It sounds a little shaky.

"You know me. Mr. Romance."

Ryan lets out a shaky laugh of his own. "How do you want to do this?"

Spencer lifts both his hands, makes a circle with his left and sticks his right index finger into it, moving it in and out. Ryan grins and slaps his hands down, and it's then that he has to admit this feels different. They have time and they met up for this and they're not fighting or pretending that it's only anger that's fueling them.

"You're an ass," Ryan says, leaning in to kiss Spencer again. He winds his fingers into Spencer's hair and tugs on the ends; Spencer gasps at that and Ryan takes the opportunity to run his tongue along Spencer's bottom lip. "You know what I'm asking."

"On my back?" Spencer says. "I don't know. It all sounds okay to me. I didn't think you'd ask."

"What kind of asshole do you think I am?"

Spencer raises his eyebrows. Point. Ryan rolls his eyes and pulls off his own tie. He starts in on the buttons on his shirt next, looking up when Spencer just stands there, waiting until he gets the hint and starts pulling off his own clothes. Ryan likes that there's still some level of not having to spell everything out between them; he also apparently likes how Spencer looks naked, but he could have guessed that one himself. Some things are a given.

Spencer gets a knee up on the bed, but Ryan stops him to step in and press their chests together. Spencer's warm all over, on the verge of breaking out in a sweat just like he does onstage, and Ryan really likes stealing that warmth from him. Their mouths meet again naturally, another less urgent kiss, Ryan sucking lightly on Spencer's tongue, which is pretty funny considering they're both hard and rubbing up against each other. Ryan grabs onto Spencer's hips and rolls his hips in a circle, making Spencer gasp into his mouth.

"Okay," Ryan says, satisfied, and pushes Spencer onto the bed.

When he lands and rolls onto his back, Spencer's mouth is a perfect O of surprise. "Jerk!" he exclaims, but he scrambles back onto the pillows and plants his feet onto the mattress, knees bent and spread wide. Ryan wants to laugh at him, but it gets caught up in his throat as a choked moan, and Spencer has such a knowing fucking expression on his face that Ryan feels his cheeks heat up.

He saves any further commentary and instead crawls up on the bed, kneeling between Spencer's legs and bending down to lick the hollow of Spencer's throat. He deliberately holds himself away from Spencer's body, much as he doesn't want to, letting the head of his cock just brush against Spencer's as he stretches and reaches for the lube.

"Don't draw it out," Spencer says, and he's not looking at Ryan when he says this, his eyes squeezed tightly shut. "I like it to hurt a little."

Ryan sucks in a sharp breath and nearly drops the bottle. He knows Spencer would probably kill him if he did, but he can't just say things like that and expect Ryan not to react. It takes some effort, but he manages to get his fingers coated without further incident.

He goes for two right away, watching as Spencer throws his head back and gasps. Ryan's fingers are long, but he tries to keep his movement short and shallow, fucking in and out of Spencer in time with his quickened breath. Every curl of his fingers makes Spencer arch his back and writhe on the sheets, trying to get Ryan to go faster, give more, and Ryan does, only not the way Spencer expects.

Spencer's cock is flushed up against his stomach, a bead of precome at the tip. Ryan shifts and leans over to lick it, lapping at the head of Spencer's cock and drawing a startled moan out of Spencer's throat. As much as he wants to close his eyes and suck, he makes sure his eyes are open so Spencer can see him watching when his eyes fly open again. Spencer makes an incoherent noise and shifts on the bed again, getting louder when Ryan finally closes his eyes and opens his mouth wider to take Spencer in.

"Fuck," Spencer moans and digs his fingers into Ryan's shoulders. "Ryan, stop, I don't want to come yet."

"Okay, okay, later," Ryan rushes out as he lifts his head again, realizing what he's said as soon as the promise passes his lips. He doesn't take it back, though, instead grabbing the condoms and ripping one off the string. Ryan adds more lube -- "not too much," Spencer says and Ryan groans -- and slowly pulls his fingers out. He gets the condom on as quick as he can, not wanting to leave Spencer empty too long, and he feels a little lost and overwhelmed a moment later when he presses the head of his cock against Spencer's ass. "Okay?" Ryan says again, the tone and meaning different, and Spencer nods and squeezes his eyes shut.

Ryan goes slow, but not as slow as he could, keeping in mind Spencer's request. Spencer flexes his fingers against his own thighs, drawing one of his knees up closer to his chest. The tight press of Spencer all around him narrows Ryan's concentration to his cock. He makes the mistake of looking down, at Spencer's dick shiny with his spit and his own dick sliding into Spencer, and he gasps, thrusting blindly until he's all the way inside. Spencer's answering moan echoes in his ears.

"Come on," Spencer says, sounding like it was him and not Ryan sucking cock a minute ago. "Fuck me already." Ryan makes a sound he doesn't think he's ever made before, picking up the pace and trying to get his hand on Spencer's cock at the same time, groaning again when Spencer bats him away and tells him, "No, I've got it." It feels like Spencer's controlling every one of Ryan's movements, especially when he starts rocking his hips and pulling Ryan deeper, making him move faster. Ryan falls forward a little, pushing Spencer's knee even closer to his chest.

"Oh," Spencer says suddenly, freezing for a second before picking up the pace again. Ryan's eyes go wide when he realizes what's happened, and he repeats the movement, the angle, over and over as Spencer's breathing goes ragged and his moans grow more desperate as Ryan gives him what he needs. Spencer chokes out, "Ryan, fuck," and comes wet and hot between them.

Spencer clenches down on Ryan's cock when he comes, and Ryan can no longer keep up the steady rhythm, and there's a second he wishes he could stay in forever, Spencer hot and tight all around him, just before his knees give out and his orgasm wipes out his capacity for thought.

He collapses heavily on top of Spencer, and they stay that way for a moment, Spencer's arms wrapping around Ryan's back and Ryan panting against Spencer's shoulder. It's nice, really nice, if messy, Spencer's come drying on their stomachs and Ryan going soft inside Spencer. All Ryan really wants is a cuddle and a nap, but he lifts his head and catches a glimpse of the clock, making him groan.

"If you want to use the shower, you can," Spencer says, businesslike and not at all the Spencer from moments before as he pushes at Ryan's arm and makes him roll off. Ryan turns down the offer, even though he has the time. It's probably gross, but he doesn't want to lose the feeling just yet.

"I'll call you," Ryan says once he's dressed and has his shoes on again. Spencer goes to the door, even though he's still naked, so Ryan takes the opportunity to kiss him before he goes. He doesn't look back after he leaves, and it's so much crappier than the last time he did that.

+

Ryan winds up lost in his own head and shows up for soundcheck fifteen minutes late. He spends the next five trying to explain who he is to the venue's staff in a garbled mix of English and broken French. Luckily, Nick shows up and rescues him, and then he has to endure another ten minutes of Jon glaring at him as he spins a tale about sightseeing and getting lost on the Métro.

"Sightseeing," Jon says with his arms crossed over his chest, looking up at Ryan's messy hair and down at his rumpled clothes. Ryan still smells like sex and he knows it.

"Trains are hell," he replies seriously and goes to tune his guitar before Jon starts yelling.

Ryan considers calling Spencer tomorrow and distracting him with phone sex so he'll be late for _his_ soundcheck, but the vicious revenge feelings he's expecting never materialize. Instead he swallows hard, thinking about Spencer jerking off to the sound of his voice.

+

The show that night isn't sold out, but there's a pretty decent sized crowd, and Jon and Ryan banter easily with the audience's encouragement. Two songs in, Jon's nudging Ryan's side and pointing: Spencer's standing off to the side, but close enough to the stage that he's still visible even with the lights aimed at Ryan and Jon. He smiles when Ryan spots him. Brendon appears next to Spencer and hands him a drink; Ryan's surprised to see him there, but Brendon seems to be having a good time. He shoots Ryan a thumbs-up before taking a drink of his beer.

Between songs, Ryan walks over to where Jon's changing guitars.

Ryan says, "You know they have a show here tomorrow night."

"Who?" Jon asks, distracted as he tightens his strings.

Ryan rolls his eyes. "Spence and Brendon. We should, you know, go. Since they're here tonight and all."

Jon shrugs. "Sure," he agrees easily. Then he looks up and eyes Ryan suspiciously. "Wait. You can't even keep track of your socks and you know someone else's tour schedule? What's up with that?"

Ryan shrugs and walks away.

+

Ryan doesn't see Spencer and Brendon after the show. They had to have left with the rest of the crowd, and Ryan isn't sure whether or not to be disappointed by that. He plays like everything's normal, though, breaking down the equipment and heading to two bars for a sort of afterparty.

When he gets back to his hotel room, it's not just late, it's late late. He knows he shouldn't, but he ignores the little voice of reason at the back of his head, and calls Spencer. Ryan's really good at ignoring reason. It pays off because Spencer picks up right away.

"Hey," Ryan says, not bothering with a 'hello' or 'I'm sorry I'm calling so late,' "Do you think if I make you late for your soundcheck tomorrow Zack will break me in half, or is there still some residual fondness there?"

Spencer laughs. It's a loud and awake sound, so Ryan doesn't think he woke him up even with the jetlag. That's good. "There's still a lot of residual fondness where you're concerned." That's even better.

"Glad to hear it," Ryan says. "I told you I'd call."

"At three in the morning," Spencer says.

"Hey, it's only six yesterday in L.A. Where coincidentally I'll be again by the end of the week."

"Two weeks for me," Spencer says, "and my house is like fifteen minutes from your house, you know."

"Yeah, I've heard that somewhere." Ryan smiles.


End file.
